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In fact, the reporter had made a big deal out of how the crisis had suddenly broken up for no apparent reason, and speculated that there must have been some quiet negotiation going on behind the scenes.

“If Loki’s gonna start doing stuff like this right in the open,” Gabi remarked, “it’s gonna get bad even sooner than I thought.”

“Is he that confident?” Anna murmured as Gabi got up to fetch them fresh cups of coffee.

Gabi swore in eloquent Spanish. “This
cabron,
his problem is that he thinks everyone else is stupid. But he didn’t win, did he?”

No, Anna thought, he hadn’t “won.” But this could just be a test case, a warning shot to see how Freya and Mist would handle a more public conflict. If he kept escalating, the truth couldn’t stay hidden long. People would begin to see things they wouldn’t understand, and there would be no putting the worms back in the can.

“You been holed up in that computer room too long,” Gabi said, returning with the replenished mugs. “You gotta get out and see what it’s like.”

“I haven’t seen
you
go out much,” Anna said, accepting her coffee with a nod of thanks.

Gabi set down her mug and held her hands up in front of her, wiggling her fingers. “There ain’t enough time to learn everything I need to know, and—” Gabi broke off. “Did you hear that?”

Anna followed her gaze to the door on the other side of the warehouse floor. Because of the riot, the entire building was empty, including the walled-off sleeping areas, the various offices, and the infirmary.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Anna said. “But they’ll be coming home now. At least no one was hurt.”

“As far as we know.” Gabi gulped down her coffee. “I gotta go. One of the Alfar healers said he’d let me try working on an elf with a minor wound, to see if I can use my abilities on non-mortals.”

“That’s quite an honor,” Anna said. “And quite a vote of confidence in you.”

“Yeah. Well, they ain’t as conceited as they used to be.”

Anna thought of Hrolf, whom she hadn’t seen much at all since their return from Norway many months ago.
He’d
never been conceited. In fact, she’d liked him quite a bit.

But even if the feeling had been mutual, she didn’t have time for personal relationships. She didn’t want them. She’d lost someone she’d believed would never desert her, and she wasn’t going to let that happen again.

“Don’t work too hard,” Gabi said as she finished washing out her mug in the sink and set it on the rack. “I don’t need
you
to get sick, too.”

“I’ll be careful,” Anna said. She finished her own coffee, her thoughts already on her work. She was sure she was coming close to locating one of the five remaining Valkyrie. If she could bring in another Treasure before Loki got to it, she could feel as if she was still worth something to the allies.

She had to do better. She had to prove …

She slowed as she approached the large office that housed the computers. The door was ajar, and she never left it open. The information squirreled away inside those computers was far too valuable to leave unattended.

“Hello?” she said, keeping her distance. “Who’s there?”

A muscular arm wrapped around her neck from behind and began to drag her backward across the warehouse floor. She opened her mouth to yell, but her kidnapper slapped his other hand over her mouth and continued to pull her toward one of the factory’s seldom-used side doors. His harsh, hot breath washed over her hair, but he held her at such an angle that she couldn’t see his face. She only knew that he was big, strong, and easily capable of breaking her in half.

Like most of the Jotunar working for Loki.

Since muffled pleading wasn’t likely to be effective, Anna let herself go limp. She certainly couldn’t resist him physically, but if he thought she was easy prey she might have a chance to escape.

The Jotunn uncovered her mouth briefly as he opened the door. This time, Anna didn’t try to scream. She relaxed all her muscles and forced him to carry her outside.

And then he stopped, as if he had nothing to fear from the mortal warriors and Valkyrie and Alfar who were bound to show up any minute. He pushed her against the wall and pinned her there with one huge hand on her shoulder.

She looked into his face.

“Vidarr!” she gasped.

Odin’s son merely stared at her, expressionless, not so much as a glint of malice in his eyes. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, merely held her there as if he were waiting for something. Or some
one
.

She
hadn’t
imagined seeing him in Norway. She’d thought she’d shot him, but here he was, and there was nothing of the menacing Nazi in him now.

Still, it took all her courage to meet his flat gaze. “I don’t know how you got past the wards,” she said. “But we’re not in the wilderness now, and any second now this whole area will be swarming with people.”

He didn’t respond.

“If you let me go,” she said, “I won’t tell anyone I saw you. Everyone thinks you’re either dead or hiding, so no one will think to look for you. I’ll say—”

“Say nothing.”

The voice wasn’t Vidarr’s, but it was more than familiar. Anna’s heart thumped once, hard, and then accelerated into a fast, erratic beat.

“Orn,” she said.

Abruptly Vidarr released her, and the raven took his familiar place on her shoulder, stropping his beak against her hair in an unmistakable gesture of affection.

“Orn,” she breathed, reaching up to stroke his breast feathers. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“I, too,” Orn said.

“Where have you been? Why is Vidarr—”

“He cannot hurt you,” Orn said, craning his neck to study her with one black marble eye. “He is nothing.”

Orn’s voice was clear, the words as distinct and deliberate and intelligent as they had been at his last meeting with her in Norway.

When he made the others forget,
Anna thought, her own memory beginning to return. “You were hiding,” she said, glancing to the left and right along the warehouse wall. “From Loki?”

Orn chuckled in a way that was eerily human. “Open your hands,” he said.

Baffled, she did as he told her, holding her palms up. Something small and cool and hard dropped into her right hand.

The pendant. Instinctively she closed her fingers around it, feeling complete again for the first time since Orn had taken it away.

“Thank you,” she said, tucking it into her pocket. “Orn, what’s going on?”

“Much,” he said. “You will see.”

He cocked his head toward Vidarr, who stepped back several paces. There was still no life in his face, and he moved like a huge, remote-controlled robot.

Anna knew she should be happy to see him brought so low. But there was something deeply disturbing about seeing a man so full of life—even if it was nasty life—turned into a virtual zombie.

“What happened to him?” Anna asked. “Is he under a spell?”

“A spell, yes,” Orn croaked, obvious amusement in his voice. “He is very obedient now.”

“Then you’re still working for Odin?”

“Always.” He butted his head against her cheek.

“Do you know what’s been going on with Loki? He’s getting more powerful every day. He probably thinks the Aesir will never come.”

“Odin is very near.”

“Then Mist needs to know right away.”

When he had taken the shape of a parrot, Orn had always been very expressive in spite of the limitations of his avian features. But
this
Orn radiated emotion in a way Anna had never experienced before.

And what he radiated now was menace. For the first time, Anna thought to wonder why he’d had Vidarr drag her out here as if she were a prisoner instead of choosing a less unpleasant way of attracting her attention.

“No,” he said. “I need to see.”

Anna swallowed. “See what?”

“You will watch Freya,” he said. “And Mist.”

“Watch them?” Anna winced as Orn’s talons bit through her shirt. “Why?”

“Freya is not Odin’s friend.”

His meaning hit Anna all at once, and she was desperately glad that she had the wall at her back.

“I … I don’t understand,” she said. “I thought Odin and Freya were working together to—”

“No,” Orn said, clacking his beak. “No.”

Anna didn’t want to believe him. It wasn’t that she liked Freya; she most certainly didn’t. The goddess was vain, dismissive of her “inferiors,” and quick to use any means necessary to get what she wanted. She treated her own daughter little better than the rest of them … unless she needed something.

But if Orn was right, the implications were staggering.

She opened her mouth to ask all the questions bouncing frantically inside her head, but only one came out.

“Why Mist?” she asked.

“To be sure,” he said. He began to croon, an aimless little melody more suitable for a songbird than a corvid. “Be sure of her.”

Because Orn didn’t trust her. Freya was not Odin’s friend. And Mist was Freya’s daughter.

Was that why he’d never given Mist the message everyone was so sure he had for her? Why he hadn’t come back when he might have done so any time since Norway, or even before?

But when, after going to such lengths to find Mist the first time, had he changed his mind?

“Mist … serves the Aesir,” she said, her thoughts beginning to drift along with Orn’s odd little song. “She serves Odin.”

“
You
serve Odin,” he said. And suddenly she was back in Norway during the war, wearing a different face … in the interrogation room, refusing to tell them—tell Vidarr—where to find the bird, hiding the pendant, refusing to betray what she knew.

What she’d
always
known. Because if Mist were to fail, there would be another to help complete the plan.

“There is more,” Orn said.

While she listened, numb and wired up all at once, he told her the other things she needed to do.

“I understand,” Anna said. “But I can’t promise I can get what you want.”

“You will,” Orn said. “Open your hand.”

She wondered what new thing he was going to give her. But when she held her palm open again, he began to peck at it … not hard, but with just enough force to sting a bit. He continued to croon as he tapped out some kind of pattern or design on her skin, working with precision and concentration.

When he lifted his head, Anna felt as if some force had seeped from her skin into her bloodstream, pumping through her body and giving her a sense of strength she’d never experienced before.

Magic,
she thought. Orn’s magic.

“Three spells,” he said, looking her in the eye. “Gleipnir, Jarngreipr, Sleipnir. Touch the Chain and the Glove, and find the Steed. Choose carefully.”

Though he didn’t explain, Anna understood him. Orn needed her to get to two of the Treasures locked away in the vault: Gleipnir and Jarngreipr. All she had to do was gain access long enough to touch them with the pendant. But she knew that Sleipnir wasn’t in the camp, and she had to find out where he was.

She had a pretty good idea where to begin.

“How do you want me to contact you?” she asked.

“I will find you,” Orn said, “my Valkyrie.”

8

“What did he tell you?” Loki asked, standing beside the living room couch with his arms crossed and a surprisingly serious look on his face.

He didn’t seem to notice Dainn’s makeshift bandage or the blood spots on his shirt, for which Dainn was extremely grateful. Eventually Loki would realize that the wound had opened again, but Dainn knew that this interrogation was likely to be worse than the last, and he had no intention of giving Loki more information than he was required to.

“What of the protest?” he countered, pretending to gaze out the expansive window at the endlessly spinning storm clouds that hung over the city.

“Oh, no,” Loki said, strolling up behind him. “There’s no squeezing out of this one, my Dainn. You disobeyed my orders and forced your way into Danny’s room. I expect a thorough report, at the very least.”

“There is little to tell,” Dainn said. “I attempted to question Danny, but he was unable to answer, and fell into his quiescent state. I saw no further sign of this energy, or magic, or whatever it may be.”

“Indeed. It seems strange, then, that my Jotunar were blasted by light which conveniently burned out the cameras.”

Dainn glanced at the room’s surveillance camera with its dark, empty face turned toward Loki’s favorite armchair. “When did you decide to break our agreement that my sessions with Danny would not be monitored?” he asked.

“I made that agreement as an experiment, to see if you would be honest with me with regard to your progress. Your most recent lies—”

“I did not lie.”

“Your recent
evasions
give me no reason to believe that leaving you to your own devices is anything but a disadvantage to me.” Loki’s eyes narrowed. “What was the source of the light?”

Thank the Norns, Dainn thought, that no one had seen the manifestation of Mist … or reported his use of the strange magic against the Jotunn guards. “It happened as I entered the room,” he said. “I was blinded for a few moments, and so did not observe its source.”

“The
source
is obvious. What else did Danny do?”

“Nothing.”

Loki grabbed Dainn’s shoulder and spun him around. “I am giving you one more chance to tell me the truth before I decide on the proper punishment for your recalcitrance. I suggest you take that chance.”

“Punishment?” Dainn said flatly, jerking away. “What have I to fear now?”

“When you first came to me, I gave you the choice to leave without Danny. You stayed to protect him from me, fearing that I might use his abilities in a way that might harm him.”

“And you would do that to him now, merely to punish me?”

“We observed something unusual today,” Loki said, pressing one palm to the window. A delicate design of icy spirals unfurled from beneath his hand, quickly mutating into a jagged, abstract pattern that nearly covered the glass. “If you tell me what you know of it, there will be no need to question his future welfare.”